


your arms are the only home i know

by neytah



Series: gay thea au [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Coming Out, F/F, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neytah/pseuds/neytah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the middle of the night, and Laurel hears a knock at her door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your arms are the only home i know

**Author's Note:**

> Three things:  
> 1) Thea is aged up so she is 24 when Oliver returns. (You kinda forget Thea is supposed to be 17 when she's played by a 23yo)  
> 2)I've only just started watching Arrow, I'm about half a season in. I was watching the Laurel-Tommy-Thea dynamic and thought, what if i took out the middle player? so here this is.  
> 3) the structure of this story is inspired by [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1118576)

_Now_

Sometimes Thea wishes Oliver never came back. After all the hell he put them through, the grief and the mourning, and it was all for nothing. It's not that she hates Oliver, or that she wishes he was dead. She just misses how thing were. Because she won't return her calls or respond to her texts. She's not there anymore.

_Then_

She's angry, that Dad and Oliver left her, even angrier that Mom has left her too, secluding herself in her room. Somehow, in her drunken state, she thinks it's a good idea to go to Laurel.

Laurel. A cocktail of grief and betrayal, thrown into her studies so she doesn't have to feel. She gets the best grades in class because all she does is work. So she doesn't have to think about Oliver, about Sara, about Oliver-and-Sara, and wishing she could forget.

Thea Queen, uninvited and clearly intoxicated, doesn't help her forget. She has half a mind to turn her away, keep anything related to her sadness far away.

But she can't because it's Thea. It's Thea, Oliver's little sister that he cared about more than anything, more that drinking, more that fame, more than even Laurel. He would always protect her.

And he's not here anymore. And she has no one.

Laurel holds Thea's hair back as she pukes in the toilet, helps her wipe her face with a tissue. Then Thea starts crying, bawling, sobs wracking through her entire body. Laurel holds her tight.

Then Laurel starts crying, too.

_Now_

Thea goes to Oliver's stupid homecoming party just to forget. It's loud and jammed full of strangers and she can get wasted all she wants and maybe kiss a pretty girl and blame it on the alcohol though she'd do it sober anyway.

She doesn't expect to see Laurel. It's probably—no, definitely the alcohol that makes Laurel seem like a siren. Alluring, inescapable, enough to make Thea stumble over, attempting to seductively drape herself around Laurel, but just looking like the stupid, drunken mess she is.

And then comes Oliver. Stupid, stupid Oliver  who Laurel loved first, cause why wouldn't she, right? He had to come back and ruin everything.

He forces her to take a cab home. She doesn't cry until she knows no one will see her.

_Then_

Thea is shivering on the curb when she calls Laurel. Laurel doesn't know how and why her number is on Thea's phone, but she picks up for the unknown number anyway, listens to her slurred pleas and shows up at 12:30 in the morning to take Thea home.

But Thea doesn't want to go home. She doesn't want to go home where Mom sequesters herself up in her room and all the servants can't look her in the eye because they feel sorry for her because what a poor broken girl she is. She hates all of it. She can't go home.

So Laurel takes her to some cheap 24hr ice cream parlor. Laurel helps Thea clean up in the bathroom, wipe running mascara form her eyes and straighten her far-too-short dress. The waitress pays them little mind, not recognizing Thea as the tragic Queen daughter, and she is thankful. She can't deal with condolences, especially tonight.

 Thea gets moosetracks. Laurel gets vanilla. It's the most normal Thea's felt in years.

_Now_

The thing is, Oliver's not allowed to do this. He's not allowed to come back and criticize the choices she's made when _he wasn't there_. In the same way he's not the same Oliver that left on that yacht, Thea's not the same girl he left. Oliver wants her to go back to college, while he flunked out not once, but four times. He wants her to stay away from drugs, alcohol, while he's renovating his own new club. He's such a hypocrite, and far too much of a dreamer. He wants to start off where he left off five years ago. He likes to think nothing's changed since then.

He can't even begin to grasp how much she's changed.

_Then_

Mom starts to care again, too little too late, when Walter comes into the picture. Thea's glad's Mom's happy. She's been a ghost for the past few months, but now she has a light in her eyes, a smile.

Is it strange that Laurel is the only person that can make Thea smile?

She finds whatever excuses she can to see Laurel. It's always the anniversary of something sad, whether the boat crash or the official calling of death, or whatever Thea needs to convince herself that alcohol is a good idea. She drinks to forget all the bad things in her life and all that's left is Laurel.

So Thea always finds her way to Laurel's apartment, and Laurel, without fail, always lets her in.

So they coexist in mutual sorrow, comfortable silence. Sometimes they order Chinese, or microwave popcorn, sit on her couch and watch crappy, mindnumbing TV. Laurel's apartment becomes Thea's refuge. After a while, Thea doesn't need to get wasted to come over. She just does.

When Thea kisses Laurel, she does so without hesitation. Maybe it's the tint of alcohol thrumming through her veins, or that life feels so meaningless that what she does doesn't matter, because maybe Laurel's lips are the only thing that'll make her feel alive again.

Because maybe Laurel wants to feel alive again, too.

Laurel can't think about how this is Speedy, Oliver's baby sister, or that she's still seventeen. All she can think is how Thea's lips, Thea's touch light a fire inside her that burns away the pain of loosing them. And she doesn't want it to end.

So Laurel lets Thea climb onto her lap, so they can kiss some more.

_Now_

Thea shows up at Laurel's doorstep, just like all those years ago, swaying under intoxication. Laurel has a right mind to make her leave. But like all those years ago, but for very different reasons, she can't.

Everything is familiar. Her sofa with a rip down the left arm, the coffee table with red wine stain that Thea remembers making. Even just the smell. The smell of Laurel, the smell of safety.

"You shouldn't be here." Laurel says hesitantly.

"Yeah," Thea mutters. "Never shoulda been."

"Look,, what we had, I shouldn't have done, you were young and I was too broken to know better and–"

"Shut up." She practically shouts, stopping Laurel's words in her throat.

"Look. I know you don't want this. It was wrong, you regret it, blah blablah. I just wanted to tell you I'm gay. And I like you. I like putting my mouth on your vagina and I like it when you but your mouth on mine and I think you like it too.

"That's all I wanted to say. I'll get out of your damn apartment now."

Thea storms past Laurel, slamming the door as she leaves.

Laurel waits until she knows Thea won't hear her to start crying.

_Then_

 It's the day after Thea's eighteenth. A world class party, a club filled to the brim, and a huge pile of gifts, Mom's way of saying "sorry for being a crappy mom."

But tonight, with Laurel, is better than any oversized necklace.

They make a cake from a box, they forget the milk and the vanilla extract but it turns out okay anyway. They sit on the couch and drink Laurel's wine, watching a rerun from friends they've both already seen. But yet, it's perfect.

Thea leans onto Laurel, which turns into cuddling, which turns into kissing. Then comes the one thing Thea was so looking forward to, that Laurel promised, now that she's eighteen.

Afterwards, when Thea lies in Laurel's bed, Laurel holds her body close. She fits so perfectly. Laurel doesn't want it to end.

"I love you." Laurel whispers.

But Thea is already asleep.


End file.
